A Close Call
by Touch of Grey
Summary: Death is often but a step away...rated for Murdoc's extreme OOCness, drugs, and, well, just being a Gorillaz fanfic, I guess.


White.

2D blinked as he stared up at the ceiling. It was white.

That was quite odd to him, as the ceiling of his room was blue, not white. In fact, none of the rooms at Kong Studios had white ceilings. White was for hospitals, Murdoc had growled, and that day he'd painted his own ceiling blood red.

The bluenette singer struggled into a sitting position, absently noting that the walls of the room he was in were white, too. The curtains were drawn shut on his window, and as 2D moved to scratch his chin, he saw that he was hooked up to an IV tube. There was a small moan from his right and when he looked down, Murdoc stared back up at him.

Murdoc, his best mate and sometimes lover but not really, whose eyes were redder than normal and completely bloodshot, stared at him like a deer in headlights. Apparently, the bassist had been catching a few quick winks in the chair next to him, head cradled on his arms next to 2D. His face was covered in dried salt trails, as if the older man had been sobbing something fierce. 2D grinned shakily.

"'Ay, mate.Wot's with the look, 'ere?", he croaked. Murdoc's mouth opened and shut a few times before he found his voice.

"You, your pills. You overdosed, Stu." Stu? Murdoc never called him by his real name! What the bleeding heck was going on?!

"Wot?"

"You overdosed. Eliza found you passed out in the kitchen." Uh oh. Lizzie didn't like it when people fell asleep in places for food. Drove the poor maid bonkers, he did, since 2D did it on an almost daily basis. "At first, she thought you were drunk, but you didn't wake up when she kicked you. Then she thought you might be dead, and came screaming to me.You really worried her, mate. The fact that you were in a coma for a week and a half didn't help matters much." 2D licked his dry, chapped lips with his equally parched tongue.

"Bit thirsty here, Muhdoc. No chance for any water, is there?" Murdoc leaped clumsily to his feet, rummaging around in what seemed to be a bucket of tiny ice cubes. He filled a glass with them and brought them back to the bed.

"Sorry, Stuey. You're not supposed to have water yet. Nurses go berserk if you drink anything within nine hours of waking up from a coma, trust me. But I think you can get away with these, so open up."

2D felt a bit strange, half laying on a hospital bed at what was apparently three in the morning while Murdoc fed him ice cubes. Murdoc, for his part, was actually quite good at being a nurse. He'd wait until 2D had swallowed all the melted liquid before lightly pressing another ice cube to the younger man's lips, quietly filling him in on the things he'd missed while in his coma all the while.

"I can do it myself, fanks." 2D had tried to protest, but Murdoc had simply clucked his tongue and held out another cube.

After nearly half an hour of almost...tender...behavior from his friend, 2D had begun to convince himself that he'd woken up in an alternate universe.

"Why are you being so bloody _nice_ to me, Muhdoc? You're starting to scare me here, mate." The bassist was silent, his face growing grim. When he spoke, his voice was low and slightly frightening.

"You almost _died_, Stu. Overdosing on pain pills like some depressed rock star. You forgetful ass, how many times have I _told_ you to write down when and what pills you take?! When you came here, there was enough in your system to kill a beagle. Is that how you want to be remembered, as the singer who died from dog-killing amounts of drugs?! Pathetic idiot..." Murdoc's shoulders shook as he buried his face in his hands. 2D's mouth fell open. Murdoc was...crying? About _him_?

"Ah, oi, mister! You knock that off! I'm alive and ready to go kick about back home, so just get me outta this thing and lets motor ourselves out of here! We could even go paint-balloon that Christian bookstore on the way back if you want." his cheerful grin wavered slightly. "Muhdoc? Muds? Are you okay?" 2D felt his throat tighten. Blubbing was quite contagious for him. Murdoc glared at him through teary eyes.

"Brainache, you're _only_ my best mate, the lead singer of my band, not to mention one of the best lays I've ever had. If you were dead, who would replace you? Russel? Noodle? Eliza?!" 2D laughed.

"Izzat your backwards way of saying, 'I love you, mate' ?" Murdoc looked down.

"Its my way of saying, 'You die on no ones terms but mine'. Got it, Stu?" The bluenette leaned forward, pecking his friend lightly on the lips.

"You got it, love. But I really do want some water...or better, a smoothie! Get me off this drippy thing and lets go get a banana smoothie! I'll buy! Muhdoc? Where are you going? Are you getting me a smoothie? Muuuuhdoooooooc!"

The older man grumbled in frustrasion, but still grinned as he reached the door. "Welcome back, 2D, welcome back."

Fini

Pointless fluff with added drugs! Whee, I astound myself. Sorry that Murdoc is so OOC, I just wanted to make him nice for once.

P.S. Eliza the maid is an original character, only because I found myself wondering who cleaned in that place. She's in her late 20's-early 30's, is multi-lingual (fluent in Italian, Russian, Japanese, and American English plus a dabbling of French, Spanish, and German), recently divorced (no children), and has the amazing ability to cook a 3-minute egg in a minute, thirty seconds flat. She and Murdoc are constantly at odds because he claims to hate all the nauseatingly healthy food she cooks, and she makes him eat it anyway. Russel, Noodle, and 2D all love her, 2D and Noodle often refer to her as their "mom", so she's in no danger of getting fired. Ritually slaughtered, perhaps, but not fired. Eliza is a fresh, older-type person face amongst all my semi-glamorous teen OC's, and I can't wait to work with her some more.


End file.
